The Asylum
by Nameless Grace
Summary: Placed in a hospital for the insane, Nancy suffers from a severe case of amnesia. When a single incident triggers all of her memories to come flooding back to her, she will have to deal with horrible nightmares from her past. 2010 movie.
1. Chapter 1

_Howdy! Just so you know, I'm a new fan of _A Nightmare on Elm Street. _After seeing the remake, I just had to write something--the characters were calling to me, begging me to write more to the story. That being said, I don't know much about the NOES-verse, just what I saw in the new movie. Therefore, I'm going off of the 2010 plot and characters (which were just superb in my book). _

_This is a rather short chapter for me; the following chapters _will be _longer. Hope you enjoy! And please review at the end (PLEASE). __  
_

**Disclaimer**: Belongs to Wes Craven and other people/companies. Not me.

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It was still dark. Nancy rolled her head to the side of her pillow, her blue eyes observing the little room, taking in the shadows. Her small cell looked striped, decorated gray and black by the effect of the moonlight on the bars of her window. She wondered what time it was, but she didn't have a clock to give her the answer. It was probably very early. She exhaled loudly. She hated waking up before the sun. She always felt haunted at night, like there was something scratching at the edge of her subconscious trying to get in.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly sat up and stretched her arms, the mattress squeaking in protest. She turned her attention back to the window. Had the little world beyond the plane of glass changed since she went to sleep? Perhaps she had awakened in a completely different place, one that had been lost to her long ago. She stood, eager to see if her little fantasies had come to fruition.

After quietly walking across the room, Nancy peered out the window. Resting her head against the wall, she watched the outside world. The scenery was still the same as the last time she looked outside, except now it was night. The moon was almost full, its bright rays casting an eerie presence on the world below. Everything seemed peaceful, sleepy even. She let out a sigh, allowing her shoulders to relax and sag. It would have been nice to be somewhere else, _anywhere _else. Closing her eyes, she imagined the wind blowing through her hair and the sun on her face. She would have smiled, but such whimsical thoughts only hurt her aching heart.

She opened her eyes again, this time regarding the thick black bars on the window. She hated them. If only they weren't there, she wouldn't feel so caged. But perhaps it was better they were there. Many people had said she was crazy, so maybe the bars were for her own good, like the nurses told her. Nancy slumped against the wall, her weary brain trying to give her some consolation. _You're not crazy_, she told herself. She knew she wasn't.

Nancy wished she could remember what events occurred that led to her demise, but she just _couldn't_. Her memories were completely blank and empty, like she wasn't alive before they brought her to this place, this cell. She ran her hands through her hair—sometimes she went crazy just trying to remember.

There was a noise outside her room; Nancy snapped her head toward the door, her ears craning to her more. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Nancy figured it was the orderly making his nightly rounds, and her eyes drifted back to the window.

She placed the palm of her hand on the glass. _Must be cold outside_, she thought wistfully. Her fingers traveled up and down the cold window, tracing the lines of the bars. For several minutes she stood there, allowing the simple movement to take over her mind, giving some rest to her tired brain. Soon, her eyelids began to sag and become heavy. Sleep was returning to her.

Just as quietly as she walked to the window, Nancy slunk back to bed and flopped onto the thin mattress. Looking up at the ceiling, Nancy fingered the piece of jewelry around her neck. She often pondered the little medallions, wondering what clues they held to the life she couldn't remember. She liked them. They let her know she once was a normal human being, someone that probably had friends and a family. Perhaps one of them gave the necklace to her—she definitely liked to think so.

With a soft smile on her face, Nancy fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_And the party continues! Thanks to _Calluna Rose_ for reviewing. Totally made my Monday, that and I got to see NOES again (gesh, I'm such the little nerd). _

_Hope you guys like the second installment, which is, if you ask me, slightly more interesting than the first. Please remember to review!  
_

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"You braided your hair today," Dr. Nguyen said. He sat at his desk, his hand placed gently on top of the wooden surface. Nancy shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head—she wasn't one for small talk. Dr. Nguyen smiled, the gesture reaching his brown eyes. When she remained silent, he decided to move on.

"Have you been doing your exercises like I told you to?" he asked. Nancy opened the little journal sitting on her lap. The book was full of small drawings and pages upon pages of words. It was her dream diary, meant to chronicle thoughts from her subconscious. But for the most part, her journal was full of gibberish, simple banter that held no valuable information.

"Yes," she murmured, flipping through the pages.

"May I see it, please?" Dr. Nguyen reached forward, his hand opened, ready to receive the journal. Nancy stood and placed it in his grasp. The doctor sat back and scanned through the pages. His smile dissolved into a pensive expression.

"Does it mean anything?" she asked. She had been keeping the journal for two weeks, and with every entry logged into the book, she prayed it would all add up to something, some clue.

"Well…" he paused, still making an assessment. "It seems, for the time at least, that there's not much substance in these pages. Have you re-read what you wrote?" Nancy looked down at her hands, not willing to admit that she had almost memorized the pages. She simply nodded her head. "Has anything you've written brought images to your mind, perhaps some small memory that you can recall?"

"No," Nancy whispered. The dreams she had meant nothing to her. Sometimes she dreamt of tornadoes, or flying; she even dreamt of being chased, but they made no sense or had a similar connection. Her memories seemed unwilling to return to her.

"Don't get discouraged, Nancy; this takes time. I didn't expect anything to happen immediately. Just keep recording what you can remember—someday soon you'll have an answer." Dr. Nguyen sat the journal softly on the desk. He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

Nancy liked her doctor. He was new to the hospital and he brought with him comfort and support, feelings she couldn't remember finding in another human being. Dr. Nguyen had a gentle spirit and seemed to look pass previous diagnoses to find the real Nancy. She wouldn't admit to looking forward to sessions with him, but she would admit to being happy to leave her cell for a few hours everyday.

"I have an idea, if you're willing, of course." He looked over the rims of his glasses at Nancy, gauging her reaction. "It's not exactly approved by my peers, but I believe that hypnosis can have a profound effect on patients suffering from amnesia." He stopped.

"Hypnosis?" Nancy ventured. Although her curiosity was piqued, she tended to believe hypno-therapy was, to say the least, a bunch of bull. But she was willing to try anything, as long as there was a chance of recovering her memory.

"Seeing as you've been here for quite a while with little progress, it is my opinion that more—how to put this delicately?—aggressive procedures should be attempted. Sometimes, the subconscious can be unlocked during hypnosis, opening up doorways that had previously been shut closed. I have seen patients recall memories they thought long lost. In that regard, I've had success with it, and I think it's worth a shot for you."

"They've really been able to remember their memories, your patients?" Nancy asked, stifling the hope rising in her. She didn't want to be disappointed, it would hurt too much.

"Yes, some have. Of course there are those who have had trouble falling under a state of hypnosis. However, we will never know with you unless we try, right?" Dr. Nguyen smiled again, hoping she would consent to the idea.

Nancy inhaled deeply, her blues eyes moving back and forth as she weighed her options. "Ok," she said, finally coming to a conclusion. She looked up at her doctor, waiting for instructions.

"Excellent!" he said, jumping up from his chair. He walked over to his windows and closed the blinds, sending the room into shadows. "Nancy, if you will come here and recline on this couch, we can begin."

Nancy quickly obeyed. The couch was comfortable enough, and she found it easy to close her eyes and relax, letting Dr. Nguyen's words drift through her mind and influence her thoughts.

After a few minutes of work, Nancy felt herself begin to slip away. "Ok," Dr. Nguyen's voice said, "I'm going to count down from ten, and when I reach one, you will be asleep."

Nancy breathed shallowly, finding it hard to pay attention to him. His words faded away, and she felt completely relaxed, as if she were in a warm bath.

She let her mind wander, allowing her thoughts to take control and drift wherever they wanted to. Suddenly, she felt a hard surface beneath her feet.

Nancy opened her eyes. She didn't recognize where she was. The dingy metal pipes and machinery told her she was no longer in the hospital, or at least any part of the hospital she had ever been in. Perhaps this was the basement, she mused. _No_, she thought, _there's sunlight coming through the windows. This looks like a warehouse_.

She walked around the area, lazily taking in this new place she was in. It was intriguing, far more interesting than her little cell.

In the midst of her inspection, Nancy stopped dead in her tracks and straightened her back, forcing herself to stand up straight, alert. There was a series of soft clanking sounds, almost as if someone was slowly approaching. She looked around her, searching for the source of the noise. There was nothing, not even a rattling machine nosily churning about. She stood on the tips of her toes, but she found nothing.

"Hello?" she called, half expecting someone to reply. Silence. She tried again, this time louder. "Hello?" She could feel the presence of someone else; she knew she wasn't alone.

_No need to yell, little Nancy_.

The voice startled her, and she jumped. It started to laugh, a low rumble that ricocheted menacingly against the decrepit walls. "Who's there?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly. She continued to examine the warehouse for signs of life…to no avail.

_You've forgotten again, haven't you? _

Like the laugh, the voice was deep and raspy, unlike anything she heard at the hospital; it frightened her. A chill ran through her nerves, causing the hair on her arms to stand on end. This wasn't right--she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. Sudden feelings of dread and fright settled on her. She needed to get out of there, she just knew it. She turned on her heel, quickly moving to leave the strange building.

An open door came into her view, not twenty feet in front of her. Nancy sprinted forward, almost frantically trying to reach the portal. Just before she could step through it, the door slammed shut, an ominous echo reverberating throughout the abandoned building. Nancy backed away, her breathing heavy and erratic. _Stay calm_, she told herself. _Don't panic, don't' panic, don't panic_!

Nancy swiftly swiveled around, determined to find another exit, but she crashed into something, sending her falling to the floor. She glanced up at the barrier that she ran in to and inhaled sharply, not liking what she saw.

A person stood before her. Nancy didn't see his shabby sweater or dirty hat or even the glove decorated with long, rusty knives, only the burned face of the man. "Oh God," she murmured, her soft voice barely audible. The man's fiery eyes blazed under the melted skin.

"Hello, Nancy," he said, obvious pleasure coating his deep voice. "It's been too long." He smiled, a frightening smile, his deformed lips pulled taut against his scorched face.

In a split second, Nancy realized something. She knew him!

_Freddy_

The name echoed through her mind, sending absolute terror mixed with adrenaline through her system. Her world came crashing down on her. A face she once hoped to never to see again was staring at her, smiling at her. She could feel her heart beat wildly in her chest.

Desperately, she backed up to the wall, searching for some protection against this monster. He slowly sauntered over to her, the jagged smirk never leaving his face. He was so close to her, and there was nowhere she could run to. She looked around, but she was totally trapped.

Nancy cringed as Freddy knelt down next to her, his scared features so very near to her own. He placed a hand on her thigh and leaned even closer, causing a small whimper to escape her lips. "I've missed you, little Nancy," he whispered in her ear. "You ruined our last playdate; I won't let that happen again."

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_Please review! _


	3. Chapter 3

_I swear my computer is half retarded. No, "Nancie's" is not the correct spelling of "Nancy's." Sorry for the rant._

Super _huge thanks to megumisakura, IxAmxThexFivexTailsx, weapon13WhiteFang, HarmonyB, marcie, Calluna Rose, and lin on spin for reviewing! I've never updated three days in a row--it's the reviews that have encouraged and inspired me to do so (hint hint...cough) :) _

_Enjoy!  
_

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Freddy pressed his charred cheek firmly against the soft, smooth skin of Nancy's face. His presence was consuming her, swallowing her, and she felt as if she were drowning in it. Complete despair descended on her, fueling her terror, paralyzing her. She closed her wide blue eyes, willing herself to magically leave the nightmare she was currently in. _This can't be happening, this can't be right_, she kept telling herself.

He knelt even closer to her, placing a knee between her bent legs and bringing a hand to her stomach, shoving her hard into the wall. "There's no escape, Nancy. No cell phones or heroic boys to wake you." He chuckled harshly. "Did they ever tell you what happened to Quentin?"

Nancy let out a deep moan as she tried to turn her face from her frightening captor. His hand snapped swiftly to her chin, cruelly bringing her face back into contact with his. She squirmed away from him, but he pressed his body against her, hindering her from moving at all.

Something sharp was angled against her ribs, pressing through her shirt. His other hand, adorned with lethal blades, was thrusting into her side, adding pain to the several emotions flowing through her veins. She felt as if her heart would explode, its beating was so fast and panicked.

"Can you guess, little Nancy? Guess what happened to Quentin," he whispered, his hand stroking her side, his lips close to her ear. Nancy could feel his demented smile against her face. Tears were blurring her vision. Quentin, she tried to remember. The name was so familiar. It rang through her mind as she desperately tried to find a face.

Then it struck her. _Quentin!_ His visage swam before her eyes, a shy smile on his lips. She loved him, she remembered. He was the only person she'd ever felt such strong feelings for. Then it dawned on her what Freddy was alluding to.

"NO!" she screamed, imagining the fate Quentin most likely met. Without thinking, she thrashed wildly, vainly attempting to throw her tormentor off of her. He pressed even harder against her; she felt as she would suffocate, her lungs unable to expand under his weight.

Then he was gone.

Nancy, trembling and confused, looked around. Freddy was not there—he was nowhere to be seen. She tentatively stood up, waiting for him to pounce. But there was no surprise attack, no ambush lurking in the shadows.

Taking advantage of the sudden freedom, she rushed to the door, thinking the only escape was to leave the building. Unhindered, she ran outside…

Nancy was in a room, one she had the feeling she'd been in before. There was a bookcase to the left and a coffee table next to her. It was a home, she figured. She was in somebody's house. There were two people also in the room, a girl and woman. She looked at the girl—it was her, an exact copy! Her mirror image was looking at the woman, who was talking to the girl, her expression kind and gentle. Then, suddenly, a streak of red exploded out of the mirror the woman was standing in front of, breaking it and sending shards all over the room. The woman's head rolled forward, three blades protruding from her face. She was dead.

The woman was then pulled into the mirror, leaving the doppelganger screaming.

Nancy threw herself against the wall, processing what she just saw. She'd seen that before, she'd seen Freddy murder that woman—her mother?—before. The idea ran through her head. Was that her mom? _Oh God, she was! _This wasn't some demented scene created by the twisted mind of Freddy—it came from her own memories. She was remembering!

As if waiting for Nancy to realize that, Freddy's sinister voice erupted in the little room, the echoes reverberating malevolently.

_I can sense your memories returning, but you're hardly scared enough. We'll have to work on that. _

The walls turned black, and a thick liquid oozed from the ceiling. As the substance seeped down the walls, the scenery changed; the quaint home and the second Nancy disappeared.

She was now in another room. Tall cement walls and broken objects surrounded her, but she wasn't looking at them. Freddy stood before her, his blades fully extended. He slowly advanced, a devilish expression plastered on his burned features.

"This was my favorite place to bring you," he said. "You were so special."

Nancy studied the area around her, frenziedly looking for an exit. _None_. The cement walls seemed forty feet high, and no door or hole was visible. She instinctively backed up, trying to avoid being near the approaching monster. But she ran out of room. Something unexpected hit her knees, causing her to fall back. She was on a bed, a small mattress placed on a slab. She looked up at Freddy, who had momentarily stopped.

"Time to play," he said, the knives flickering. He suddenly rushed forward, his weapon poised to strike; Nancy screamed.

_Nancy, Nancy, NANCY! WAKE UP! _

Cringing, Nancy opened her eyes, fully expecting to see Freddy bearing down on her. Instead, the brown eyes of Dr. Nguyen stared fixedly at her, his brows raised with worry

"Oh God," she whimpered, sitting up and folding her arms tightly around herself, crying softly.

"Nancy, Nancy…it's over, it's over!" Dr. Nguyen gently placed a warm hand on her shoulder, and then, as if deciding his previous action wasn't enough, he wrapped his arms around Nancy's petite frame and held her in an awkward hug. She leaned against his shoulder, desperately purging her emotions through the tears freely falling down her cheeks.

"I don't know what happened…" Dr. Nguyen said after a few minutes. "You fell into a deep hypnotic state, and you weren't reactive. You just started screaming and shaking."

"I remember," she said. "I can remember things, terrible things." She halted her confession before continuing, taking a deep breath. "I saw my mother being murdered… I saw…" she stopped, unable to mention Freddy's name.

"You…you can remember that?" He looked at her perplexedly.

"He killed her…" she whispered.

"Who?" Dr. Nguyen probed.

Nancy remained silent. He would never understand. Her eyes searched the room, remembering where she was. She couldn't tell her psychiatrist—he would never believe her. It would confirm her place in the mental hospital, and she needed to get out. She needed to leave as soon as possible.

"A man, a horrible man." She rested her head on her arms, trying hard not to let her thoughts dwell on Freddy, but he was all she could think of. His eyes burned in her memory, his hand ready to deliver a lethal blow.

"I'm sorry, Nancy. I shouldn't have done that, knowing your history… That was a poor judgment on my part. I thought that if I could direct you to memories from your youth, you would recall happier times," he paused, thinking about the session. "But something went wrong. You went completely out of my control."

Nancy acknowledged his words with a quick nod. A deep feeling of regret welled within in her. If she hadn't agreed to the hypnosis, she would possibly have never recalled Freddy, keeping her free from the murderer's grasp. _But also Quentin and Mom, _she reminded herself._ Is living without their memory worth it? _

She stopped crying, thinking about Quentin. What if he was still alive? Could she help him? A fierce instinct of protection rose up. She wanted to guard him against Freddy, against his cruel agenda. She abruptly stood, no longer willing to wallow in self pity. She needed to do _something_.

"Do you want to talk about what you saw?" Dr. Nguyen, also standing, asked. Nancy shook her head. There was nothing she wanted to tell him. She suddenly felt uncomfortable in his presence. It would be his nature to probe and ask questions, but she didn't want to talk to him.

The doctor moved to his desk and picked up her journal. "Nancy, please sit; talk to me. Tell me what happened. The events that you just experienced could be detrimental to your mental state. I'm your friend here, and I want to help you." He sat on the edge of his desk, leaning slightly in her direction.

"I'm fine," she stammered. "They were just nightmares from when I was a kid. That's what I remembered."

Dr. Nguyen eyed her suspiciously. "Nightmares?" he asked, trying to convince himself her violent reaction was caused by memories of dreams.

"Yes," she said assertively. The doctor continued to stare at her, as if trying to read her mind. "I just want to go to my room and take a shower."

"I don't…" he started, but then stopped, looking at her expression. "Fine," he consented. "But if you have any problems, don't hesitate to talk to me, no matter what time. Just tell the nurses, and they'll let you contact me."

"Thanks," she mumbled, already moving to the door.

Once in the hallway, she carefully closed the door, not wanting it to slam. Nancy looked for the orderly who was supposed to escort her back to her room, but there was no one waiting for her. She scanned the length of the hallway, but still found no one.

_I told you, little Nancy. There is no escape_.

Nancy spun around, not believing what she just heard.

And there he was, standing mere feet from her. With his hat askew and fingers twitching, making the blades dance back and forth, Freddy approached his victim, laughing heinously at the pure terror written on her face.

"That's more like it, little Nancy," he cackled and raised his hand, the rusty blades glowing in the light.

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_Please review! _


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry for taking so long to update...finals and the end of the semester tend to end with parties that take away time from the important things. But since there is no school now, there will be plenty of time to write._

_THANK YOU so much to __IxAmxThexFivexTailsx, Caullna Rose, degrasiiloveyou, fallenangel009, ally of the nitemares, marcie, 11 Crimson Rubies, Darkness Takes Over, OceanFae, PoisonousAngel, weapon13WhiteFang, and lin on the spin (And to pinkluver93, who I forgot to thank last time). Y'all are really nice, and you have no idea how much I appreciate your reviews. __Enjoy!__  
_

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Before she could even attempt to retreat, Nancy was slammed hard against the wall. She choked; Freddy's ungloved hand was clenched tightly around her throat, constricting her breathing. She let out several short gasps while she frenetically struggled to loosen his hold on her. Her fingernails clawed at his hand, breaking the burnt and melted skin, but his grasp remained constant. He smiled, exposing his broken and decayed teeth. She could sense his enjoyment as she struggled underneath him.

Touching a lone knife to her cheek, Freddy spoke, his hellish eyes smoldering. "You may have forgotten what happened between us." A half chuckle emanated from him. "But I haven't." Nancy, gargling and wheezing, endeavored to shake her head.

"You see, you're under my control now," he said, sadistic amusement oozing from his countenance. Squeezing her neck tighter, he leaned in closer and declared slowly, "And I'm going to make you pay for every…little…fucking thing you've done to me."

Without warning, Nancy was flung across the hallway. She hit the wall, and with a sickening thud she fell in a heap on the linoleum floor. Disoriented and gasping, she looked around, searching her assailant. He took a step toward her, and she hurriedly recoiled, her arms and legs working frantically to move her.

Freddy laughed as his victim attempted to crawl away from him. Casually, with the knives behind his back, he sauntered over to her, a vicious leer spread across his face. "Wha…what happened?" Nancy asked, trying to stand. He was suddenly next to her, kneeling beside her. He pushed her back down to the ground.

"You'll remember soon enough," he quipped, raising the knives. In one swift slashing motion, he brought the blades closer to Nancy, who instinctively raised her arm to stop the blow; an intense stinging sensation immediately spread from her forearm to her entire body, making her vision blur. She didn't dare take her eyes off of Freddy, but in her peripherally vision, she could see the three bright red streaks smeared across her arm. She hissed with pain.

"Now you'll have matching scars," he smirked, his eyes wandering to the three pale marks on shoulder. He raised the knives again…

Bracing herself for the searing pain that was sure to come, Nancy flinched and closed her eyes, but nothing happened. There was a rustling sound, like someone frantically moving.

"Oh my God," an unmistakable masculine voice said, a voice that was clearly not Freddy. She opened her eyes and squinted because of the bright light._ I'm awake.. He's gone_, she told herself.

The white uniform of an orderly came into view. She felt a warm hand gently pick up her injured arm, turning it back and forth in what she imagined was a quick examination."How did…how did this happen?" the man asked, his voice breathy. A hand was placed on her shoulder, and Nancy looked at the orderly. "You fainted the minute you stepped into the hallway…and then you—God, I don't know—it's like you _jumped_ across the hallway, but you were out, totally unconscious. Are you okay?" he asked, as if it came as a second thought.

Her body was shaking; and she didn't trust her voice, fearing it would convey the sheer terror she still felt, so she simply nodded in response to his question. The orderly didn't seem to notice.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, still inspecting the cuts. "They just _appeared_! What happened?" Nancy shook her head. He looked at her, his young features twisted with confusion. Handing his jacket to her, he said, "Here, apply pressure to the cuts with this; I'm going to get the doctor," he said, rising.

"Don't!" Nancy exclaimed. He looked back at her, perplexed.

"Listen, lady, that wound needs to be attended to."

"You do it," she said, wrapping the thin cotton jacket around her arm.

"I'm…I'm just a medical assistant. The doctor should really take a look at it." His hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn it.

"You saw what happened," she murmured. He stopped, his wrist half turned. He looked back at her. "I didn't cause the wounds. You know that. If you get the doctor, he'll just assume I harmed myself." Her blue eyes were begging him to listen, to believe her.

"I don't know how. It's just like…" His words tapered off.

"Please, just help me. I don't want Dr. Nguyen to know about this."

Looking down the hallway, the orderly frowned. "Ok," he said, turning away from the door. "Let's hurry, then."

Pushing herself off the ground, Nancy carefully stood. Her arm was throbbing and tears threatened to fall, but she stayed resolute. She needed to get out of the hospital… She needed to find Quentin.

"C'mon," the orderly said, waving his hand at Nancy. Inhaling deeply, she followed him.

As the two walked through the familiar hallways back to her room, Nancy's mind was desperately searching for answers in her memories, but it was as if they were blurry and unfocused. She could remember her mom, her warm smile and red hair. But there was little else so could recall, aside from her murder. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of that violent recollection.

Quentin, she tried to remember everything she could about him. They met in school, she guessed. She could almost see him in the hallways of a school, or standing next to what she assumed was her locker. One brief image stood out in her mind the most, though. It was of him standing in a dark room, blood pouring from his nose. Freddy was also there. She tried to focus on that scene, but besides the major players and a few observations of the room, she couldn't remember what happened, what the final outcome was… _It seems so familiar, so important_, she told herself.

But she knew who Freddy was. She could remember so much about him. He had killed before, many people she seemed to think. Some were her friends, but how she knew that, she couldn't say. She remembered being on a bed, Freddy next to her, stroking the fabric of her dress with his knives. She suddenly felt sick, like her stomach turned upside down. She remembered the feeling of him pressed up beside her, chuckling at her terror.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the orderly abruptly stopped. They were at her room. After unlocking the door and letting her in, he said, "Wait her a second; I'll go get some supplies."

Nancy headed into the bathroom, wanting to clean the wounds. She splashed some water on her arm and watched the blood fall from her skin into the white sink, where it mixed with the water and it turned pink. She then looked at the mirror. Her eyes were wide and her hair was disheveled, little whips protruding from the once neat braid; a little red spot was forming on the side of her cheek. Her eyes wandered down to the little medallions dangling around her neck. _Quentin gave them to me_, she thought. She was certain he had.

Another scene was forming on the brink of her memory when the door to her room burst open; Nancy jumped. The orderly had returned. He looked at her, little beads of perspiration dotting his brow. "Right, well I've got some bandages," he said.

Nancy sat on the bed with her arm slightly extended while her wounds were being cleaned. The orderly gently applied pressure to them with some white gauze. After some time he said, "The good news is that they don't look like they need to be stitched up. They bad news is that they're bleeding, a lot. But…" He paused, replacing the blood soaked fabric with a new square of gauze. "I think they'll stop soon enough." After firmly packing the three cuts, he wrapped her arm with white bandaging.

After he was done, he stepped back to inspect his work. "Ok…" he said approvingly. Nancy nodded. The wrapping had been done nicely, and the pain had subsided to a dull stinging.

"What's your name?" she asked.

The orderly seemed lost in thought, but he quickly flicked his eyes to meet her gaze. "Oh, um, Jon," he said, lazily pointing to his breast pocket. Nancy nodded again, noticing for the first time that he had a name-tag on his scrubs. Somewhat embarrassed, she looked away.

"Listen." Jon's voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. "This is crazy; and you'll never believe me, but I've seen something like that before." He looked straight at her, his brown eyes intense in their unwavering stare.

His words echoed in her mind, and she tried to think of the best course of action. "What do you mean?" she asked. Jon pulled out the chair from the desk behind him and sat down. He rubbed his eyes, as if he were battling with what to say.

"Jesus, I can't believe I'm talking to a crazy person about this…" he mumbled.

"What?" Nancy snapped. "I am _not_ crazy." Offended, she stood.

"Ok, ok, ok," he said quickly, his hands raised in mock surrender. "It's just, well…never mind. I'm sorry. Just listen to me, please." Narrowing her eyes, Nancy sat back down. "Alright then," he continued when his audience seemed calmed down enough. "I once saw my sister get slashed like that. But she was sleeping when it happened. I swear to God. She just screamed and they appeared, right before my eyes. And when I saw that happen to you today—and it was right in front of me, right in front of me!—I couldn't believe it."

"What happened to her?" Nancy queried. She could feel her pulse begin to rise, and her little bumps were forming on her skin, decorating the length of her arms and making the little hairs stand.

Jon stayed silent for a few brief seconds. He sighed and then said quietly, "She seemed to think that something paranormal was happening to her, like a ghost or something was hurting her. Jeez, I don't know. But she disappeared one night…" Nancy could see the water accumulating in the corner of Jon's eyes; his voice was burdened with pain. This wasn't a happy story, she assumed. "They found her body, slashed and broken, but they never found anyone linked to her murder."

"But those cuts on your arm…" He stared fixedly at her. "What happened to you today? You gotta tell me."

Nancy didn't talk—she didn't know what to say. His sister had been _killed_, and he was looking for an answer to explain her death. With only a few memories, she barely understood what happened to _her_, let a lone the murder of some girl she never knew. Besides, she concluded, there was no way he would believe her.

"I don't know," she whispered after several moments of silence. Jon slouched into his chair, obvious disappointment written on his face.

"Listen, you can talk to me. I've heard some crazy things from…" he trailed off, his eyes distant.

At that moment, she knew that she couldn't trust him. If his sister was murdered by Freddy, which Nancy had a distinct feeling she was, Jon still thought in the back of his mind that she was crazy. She imagined his sister begging him to believe her, that some man was hurting her in her dreams.

Nancy shook her head. "I don't remember," she said firmly.

"Right." Jon remained sitting. He buried his face in his hands, sighed, and then mumbled something. "Well," he said standing. "I did you a favor today… I'll be around if you ever do remember."

Jon neatly put the chair back under the desk, and then he walked out of the room, the medical aid kit clenched tightly underneath his arm. Once the door was closed, Nancy laid back on her bed.

Counting the ceiling tiles, Nancy let her mind wander. She tried to recall more about Quentin and her mom. She seemed to remember a few things, like her mother's birthday and the color of Quentin's Jeep. Little aspects from her past seemed to be coming together, but she still couldn't remember the details surrounding the scene with the dark room where Quentin had been bleeding. _It'll come in time_, she kept reassuring herself.

The hours passed. When the time came for dinner, she stayed in her room—she wasn't hungry. She tried to read, but her eyes weren't willing to focus on the words in the text; so she decided to watch the sun go down. When it was completely gone from the sky, she turned on the lights in her room and sat on her bed. She was emotionally drained and exhausted. Her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes. _There has to be a solution_, she thought. _I just know there is. _

Around one o'clock in the morning, Nancy heard the night orderly walking down the hallway, like he did every night. When the marching came near her room, it stopped; Nancy paid no mind. It was common for orderlies to stop and check in on patients. But then her door popped open. The walking continued.

With her heart pounding, she approached the entry of her room. The door stood slightly ajar, the dark hallway just beyond it. Poking her head outside, Nancy looked down the corridor, hoping to catch a glimpse of the orderly. _Perhaps it was Jon_, she told herself. But no one was there.

Opening the door more, Nancy stepped outside her room. It was completely black in the hallway, almost opaque. She had a horrible feeling. Turning on her heel, she entered her room.

All the lights were off.

Nancy slammed the door, comprehension dawning on her. She must've fallen asleep—this was a dream.

As clouds passed away from the moon, a tiny beam of silver light ebbed into the room, illuminating the silhouette of person standing by the window. With his hat placed crookedly on his head, it was impossible to not recognize Freddy standing across the room.

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_Please review!_


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